


Thunder and Lightning

by Falconette



Series: Jean x reader x Marco [3]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: F/M, Lemon, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 15:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1694018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falconette/pseuds/Falconette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snatching kisses and hearts during your time as trainees. Mellow and sweet.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thunder and Lightning

**Author's Note:**

> One of my OT3 (Jean x reader x Marco) stories. They are interconnected as they happen in the same universe, however can be read separately.

Since the military guaranteed that your years as trainees will be spent in teaching you not just combat skills, tactics and history, but also how to be a fully functional individual once you graduate, after drills and classes you were often delegated choirs like cleaning, preparing food and tending the animals. This evening you were stuck in a dim kitchen corner with a bowl of mixed vegetables that needed peeling and, mercifully, a fuller bowl of already cleaned radishes, potatoes, carrots and tomatoes for tomorrow’s stew. Your fingers were already raw and tired as they picked another carrot and went through the same motions of removing its tip with a practiced flick of a small knife you wielded, then proceeding to scrape the clinging grime off its surface and finally rinsing it in water. You were so absorbed in hypnotic repetition that when Jean sat across from you, you almost jumped in surprise.

 

He raised his eyebrows at the heap of clean, fresh vegetables in the second bowl, “How long have you been at it?”

 

Your eyes tiredly glanced at the candle stump, estimating the time lapsed, “About two hours.” You sighed and loosened your stiffened shoulders and neck, feeling the ligaments inside creak in protest. “Forever.”

 

Jean let out an impressed whistle, eyeing the door to the adjacent superiors’ chambers, “We must have really ticked the captain off this time.”

 

You nodded, without caring to elaborate. The instructor had noticed you sneaking off with certain boys from the same squad and, instead of calling you upon breaking the explicit rules against romantic relations between the cadets, he would entrust you with the most tedious tasks, restricting your free time and making your encounters with the boys scarcer. What he didn’t know was that he was making them so much more precious. The boys were given an even rougher treatment but they bore it with clenched jaws, almost proudly sporting the bruises stemming from the special attention they received during sparring drills.  

 

“It is actually nice to see you do womanly things, for a change.” Jean snickered and your foot instantly connected to his shin under the table, although not hard enough to wipe the smile off his face.

 

“Oh, you want to see me do womanly things?” you pouted and dipped the just cleaned carrot in the water bowl, but instead of shaking the water off, you brought it to your mouth and slowly sucked on it, making sure no droplet was shed. Then you slid it out between your lips and swirled across its uneven surface, with the tip of your tongue, discreetly and suggestively. Jean was barely breathing as he watched your lips, the smirk waning from corners of his mouth. He crossed his legs awkwardly and cast a sideways glance towards the far corner of the room where several squad members were chatting, then returned his focus to you. Slowly and deliberately you worked your way up and down, taking your time, dropping Jean’s mouth open without him consciously noticing. When you slid the rounded carrot tip over your half open mouth, he audibly swallowed, his cheeks and ears burning. Inadvertently, his body was leaning closer and closer to you across the table.

 

As your tongue danced across the shaft once more and your mouth closed around the tip again, as you saw him hanging onto the next move of your lips and fingers, you let your teeth flash for a short moment and hack the carrot in two with a loud crunch. With a dark satisfaction, you saw him cringe and involuntarily back away, a look of dismay on his face.

 

Just then Marco’s hand rested on Jean’s shoulder from behind, making him jump in his seat.

 

“Hey!” Marco said in a cheerful tone.

 

“For fuck’s sake, Marco!” Jean exclaimed, drawing inquisitive looks from across the room. Flustered and self-conscious, he added in a quieter tone, “Don’t sneak up on people like that.” Ignoring Marco’s confused expression, he got up and stormed out, giving you a passing, reprimanding glare.

 

“Jean, wait…” Marco started but his friend was already out the door so he turned to you, “What happened? You had one of your ‘situations’ again, didn’t you?”

 

Although Marco knew that the love-hate interplay between you and Jean served only as fuel for passionate venting during sex, you knew it was not his cup of tea. He would be the one giving you plenty of space when you played rougher games in bed with Jean, but he would also be the one cradling your body with his afterwards, making sure you cooled down in his arms. He sat down shaking his head, taking the seat Jean just vacated, his slick, jet black hair giving off an orange hue in the candle light.

 

“You both know you care for each other, why play these games?”

 

You shrugged, not knowing the answer yourself. There was something in Jean that made you snap at his remarks and, as far as you could tell, it went both ways.

 

“Let me help you.” Marco dropped the subject and started rolling up his sleeves when he noticed what you were doing, but shaking of your head stopped him in mid motion.

 

“Nah,” you said, chewing sweetly on the carrot and eyeing the door, wondering when will Jean’s wounded pride allow him to come back, “I am almost done here. Just give me a few more minutes.” You nimbly turned another potato in your palm, bringing the sharp blade to its surface, stripping the dark peel and revealing the pale plant beneath. At the same time, your foot loosened itself out of your shoe and travelled up Marco’s shin to the warm place where his thighs came together. You didn’t have to feel you had hit the spot, his flushed face in a dancing candlelight and an incredulous look said it all. His breath caught, then he cast a nervous, furtive glance at the far end of the room, checking for others.

 

“Don’t worry. “ you said in an even voice, as you continued to diligently peel the potato, then dip it in a water bowl, “It is too dark under the table for anyone to see us.”

 

Marco awkwardly shifted in his chair, his arousal uncomfortably growing despite his will.

 

“Are you sure?” he whispered, leaning in. There was something conspiratorial and adventurous in his voice. The freckles stood out charmingly on his cheeks as his breathing became more irregular.

 

You shrugged with traces of a mischievous smile, even though you were sure no one was paying attention at the dark, uneventful corner of the kitchen.

 

Marco’s eyes slid towards the superiors’ door but his body didn’t back away. “If we get in trouble here in the common room…” he gasped, biting his lower lip as the sole of your foot gently massaged his shaft alongside its length. To your surprise, you realized you couldn’t tell if he viewed the prospect of being caught as a fear or a turn-on. He shifted again, trying to adjust and ease the pressure in his loins, his hands twitching and almost reaching below the table before he stopped himself.

 

He finally looked you in the eyes and noticed your wide smile. Your hands were still, a half cleaned radish resting between your fingers, as you concentrated on giving him just enough pressure to make him teeter between pleasure and pain.

 

“You are torturing me.” he declared, giving you an uneasy smile and bringing his thighs together, squeezing your toes against his crotch. He was hard.

 

“And you are enjoying it.” you replied in equally declaratory tone, finishing the radish and wiping your hands with a cloth. Your work for today was done.

 

“And I came here to tell you I am on stable duty tonight.” there was a dark, daring gleam in his eyes that Marco rarely let other people see. “So I thought…”

 

You gave him a puzzled look. The stable duty meant making sure the horses are brushed down, watered and fed which did leave a lot of space for slacking off since no one could gauge how long these things would exactly take. However, stables are never locked so cadets and military personnel often came and went, tending to their horses or just killing time. To start anything psychical there would be insanity.

 

Marco must have read your incredulous look because he leaned in closer and whispered, “A storm is building up. A really big one. And when the rain pours down, no one will be strolling through the stables or going outside.”

 

“Well,” you stammered. It was your turn to be caught off guard, “I guess no one would miss me for an hour or two…”

 

“Just find Jean and I’ll meet you there, then.” he whispered in a deep voice giving you a lingering look, the kind of look that made yours insides ache with anticipation. Then his lips stretched into a smile that lit up his whole face, making him look disarmingly boyish. He abruptly got to his feet and in the same motion heaved the bowl of vegetables you spent two hours cleaning easily into the air and brought it to the center kitchen table for the cooks, the noise the heavy vessel made when connecting with the wooden surface startling the squad-mates on the other side of the room.

 

“Sorry about that.” Marco smiled apologetically at them and scratched the back of his neck with his hand. “Guess I don’t know my own strength.”

 

The others responded with smiles and jokes as you used the distraction to slip away, noting how popular Marco was among your comrades. With the pure, kind and easygoing picture they had of him, you wondered what would they think if they ever saw the glint in his dark eyes he had when he was having you against the wall, thrusting against your body like there was no tomorrow, the muscles he obtained in training strained for a very different cause.

 

Even though the kitchen was scarcely lit, it took you a few steps until your eyes adjusted to the darkness outside. Marco was right; a storm was coming, furious winds announcing its arrival and the pressure of upcoming torrents grinding everything in its path. You felt the heavy air and scented the smell of rain before you could make out the heavy, scowling clouds above.

 

Someone’s hand caught you elbow just as you quickened your pace towards the stables.

 

“Where are you going? Don’t you see the sky is about to open any second now?” Jean’s exclamation was muffled by the strong wind. As per cue, thunder roared from somewhere not too far away.

 

You indicated the stable building with your chin as hair wildly whipped around your face. It was close enough to discern disturbed neighing of horses tethered inside. “Marco is on duty this evening and the storm will be a perfect cover for losing a couple of hours.”

 

There was a cold glimmer in Jean’s eyes and a clenching in his jaw line as he jumped to conclusions, just like you knew he would. “You are also invited. He would have told you if you had given him the chance.” you explained evenly before he could say anything.

 

Jean let go of your arm and looked around, making sure no one saw you then curtly nodded. “Sorry.” he said in a calmer, pointedly deeper voice, avoiding your eyes as he always did that after his infantile side broke through.”I will bring something to eat. They are about to serve dinner.”

 

You smiled and gave him a peck on a cheek, risking being seen and counting on the bad weather and cloak of darkness as your allies. Jean gave you a surprised and grateful glance, reminding you of a little boy desiring approval.

 

“You left me in a pinch back there, you know?” his voice was a bit shaken, or maybe it was a wind eddy, “I pitched a friggin tent in the middle of kitchen and you were just grinning across the damn table…”

 

“I will make it up to you.” the roar of another thunder strike, this one notably closer, underlined your words . He nodded again, his lips pressed in a tight line, and sprinted off towards the main building.

 

You entered the dark stables, accompanied by nervous twitching of dozens of pairs of horse ears, commotion and their questioning neighing. The smell and warmth of numerous animal bodies made the wooden structure surprisingly cozy. Inside was almost pitch black and you found your way between the stalls by touch and memory, finally settling down on a heap of fragrant, fresh hey in the far end of the passage, beside the netted window that allowed scarce light of guard fires inside.

 

The rain already started pounding on the roof when you heard the door squeak open and shut, a silhouette only a bit darker than the room hesitating by the doorframe.

 

“Over here.” you called out, hoping this wasn’t some random person seeking shelter from the storm.

 

Footsteps approached and Marco’s features started to outline and take shape before you. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the gloom, he used his fingers to pinpoint you and his lips to find yours. His skin was chilled by water and wind, the kiss he gave you nevertheless feverish.

 

“Just in time.” he panted still breathless from running, tousling his damp hair that smelled like rain as he glanced outside the window at ever thicker torrents.

 

“I met Jean on the way, he will be joining us with some supper.” you ran your fingers through his black hair, slicking it back. The new style gave Marco’s features a sharper, darker undertone in a stark contrast to his wide, gentle eyes. His chin sunk somewhat.

 

“I wish I had thought of that.” he mumbled to himself, leaning in the hay, sinking into the soft heap. You laid next to him, unbuttoning his soaked shirt and peeling if off his shoulders so he wouldn’t catch a cold.

 

“Who cares? As long as someone brings some food…” you spread the shirt on a bench to dry and spread your fingers across Marco’s muscled chest, enjoying the hills and nooks of his physique. The boys have put on a lot of muscle since they joined the squad, fascinating you every day with their growing strength.

 

“I should care. I should have thought of that instead of rushing here after you like a dog in heat.” Marco said in an uncharacteristically sullen tone, “He is already better at everything anyway and when I don’t even try like this…”

 

“Marco,” you stilled your hand, watching him intently, trying to make out his expression in dim light, “What are you saying?”

 

He sighed and turned towards the window. “I am saying I already know he deserves you more than I do and I hate it when I undermine myself even more by being stupid. He is smarter, more practical, richer, more realistic, outspoken... he’s got it all. Honestly, I don’t even know why you want me around.”

 

“Well, it is one thing to admire your best friend, but this sounds like a crush…” you begun jokingly but broke off when Marco’s head wasn’t’ turning towards you with one of his hearty smiles.

 

“Marco?” you asked quietly, gently shaking his shoulder.

 

“Sometimes,” his voice was barely a whisper, “when you taunt each other and argue… the zest in your eyes, it scares me. It is crazy, I don’t understand you guys, but it is like you are stoking up a fire that keeps you together. And with me… I am not like that. I cannot outdo him in any way. What do you even see in me?”

 

“Marco…,” you leaned your body his hip, your arm draped across his chest. He was breathing shallowly, his face pointedly adverted from you, the heavy rain being the only noise around you. “You cannot be serious.”

 

No reaction, no reply.

 

“Hey!” you shook him more roughly, trying to get him to look at you. “Tell me you’re joking.”

 

“That day when we kissed for the first time…” he begun in an unsure voice, picking his words carefully like he was extracting them from a dark and hidden place, “I already knew back then that Jean had his sights on you. He had been secretly watching you for a long time. I had planned to back off and forget about it… but nothing prepared me for your smile.” his face turned to you and you could discern shimmering in his eyes. “Once I held you in my arms, I knew I’d never be able to let you go. Not even for him.”

 

Marco’s fingers closed around your hand but there was no strength in his grip. All his power went into pulling the buried words from his mouth.

 

“And now, I love you more and more each day and each day I am more and more terrified that you will get tired of this simple, naïve village boy and choose him.” he added with a tinge of bitterness. “Why does he always have to win at everything?”

 

“Maybe because you keep telling yourself that?” your voice sounded sobering.

 

“W-what?” he stuttered.

 

“Did you ever try, Marco? Really, really try to best him?” you propped yourself up on an elbow. “I bet you didn’t because it would put a strain on your friendship.” His gaze searched your face, confused and hurt, so you continued in a gentler tone. “But it doesn’t matter. I don’t care about competitions and rankings. I care about you. Both of you.”

 

You brushed your fingers across his face, wiping away remnants of moist too salty to be rain. “You are both special to me, why would I leave one for another?”

 

Marco didn’t move or speak, but his expressive eyes told you he needed to know, he needed to hear it from you. So you took a breath and said

 

“You are here when I need somebody who will listen without trying to force his solutions on me. I can count on your patience and understanding, even on a bad day I am smiling when I see you. You notice the little things others usually overlook and you always focus on the bright side. You never criticize or complain, never put anybody down. So maybe we don’t have this friction you mentioned between us…” you shrugged dismissively, “But how can you compare devouring fire to calm, deep water? Maybe you can tell me which is more precious because I can’t decide, even now.”

 

You pressed your cheek against his neck and added quietly. “I don’t want to decide.”

 

His fingers squeezed your hand more tightly, the warmth returning to his limbs.

 

“Please,” he said thinly, fighting with a lump in his throat, “Just… give me a moment.”

 

Your arms embraced his shoulders and you held him like that for a long time, feeling his heartbeat quicken than calm down again, as well as his breathing.

 

“I love you.” he said finally and clearly, bringing your fingers to his lips and brushing them across his dry skin. “I am sorry for being such a crybaby. Please don’t tell…”

 

You pressed your lips to his to stop further, redundant words. You stayed tenderly connected, your tongues gently investigating each other’s most delicate senses, licking, soothing, comforting, not caring about the time or the world.

 

As he silently watched, your fingers nimbly freed you from your shirt and your pants followed, being carelessly tossed into the hay. Then you begun working on his boots and pants, urged by a sudden desire to have him, here and now, to connect undisturbed.

 

“But Jean is still…” he muttered unsurely, helping you strip him in darkness.

 

“Shhhh…” you pressed a finger across his lips, sliding your other hand down his smooth belly. “This is a moment for us only.”

 

He wanly smiled then deftly moved above you, propping himself on elbows, his lips deeply locked with yours. You hand stroked his erection as you adjusted yourself beneath him.

 

“Are you ready?” when he guessed your intentions he whispered in your ear in a husky voice, making shivers run up and down your spine. “I didn’t take care of you…”

 

“Oh, I am ready.” your body squirmed beneath his in an answer, your knees rising and legs spreading to welcome him in. The weight of his body made you sink deeper into the fragrant bedding as his hips worked to find a way inside your aching loins.

 

Marco slid his shaft slowly in and shuddered with pleasure when he entered all the way, taking a moment to let the sensation pass through his body. The hotness of his pulsating erection stirred the blood inside you, you inner muscles clenching and unclenching with pulses of satisfaction. His arms embraced you, locking behind your shoulder blades and your legs entwined tightly around his hips restricting your movements to slow, lazy waves of your connected bodies. The intimacy and the beauty of it touched a deep, tender place inside your heart.

 

“Ahhhh... “ he moaned in your neck as film of sweat started forming between your bodies, cooling the hot skin and allowing you to more easily slide against each other. He moved strands of your hair from your face with his fingertips as his hips, unrushed and thorough, dug inside you. His lips barely moved, the words reaching you as wisps of his warm breath, “Being with you, like this, is the best feeling in the world.”

 

“Marco…” you sighed, shifting to feel him better, rocking you pelvis from below to accommodate to his anatomy and motions. Even through dusk, you could discern his gentle gaze on you, watching you with open adoration. “I can’t… when you stare at me like that.” you said, turning your head sideways in embarrassment.

 

He smiled and kissed you, halting for a while to recuperate. „Hnnn, you could push me over the edge just with such a cute look.” he chuckled and then continued where he had left off, slowly building your body up to a boiling point. He felt you clutch to him in sweet anticipation, your things clutching his hips desperately and he hastened the tempo to catch up with you.

 

“Tell me.” he panted in your ear as orgasm was starting to flood through your body, “Come on, speak to me…”

 

“I love you!” you screamed in the deafening rain, unbearable pleasure furrowing your brow, “I love you Marco!”

 

“Ohhhyeeees!” he howled and came, digging his face into your neck. “Yeah…” Marco’s relieved voice waned as he tried to catch his breath, comfortably slumped over you. You remained resting like that for a while, enjoying the drumming of raindrops on the windowsill, sensing only your heartbeats.

 

Marco voice, muffled by being pressed against your skin and hay, startled you from dozing off „If it ever comes to that, I am fighting for you. For real. Just so you know.”

 

You smiled and stroked his hair thinking that if it ever came to that, Jean would be in for a big surprise from his modest, selfless friend. If it ever came to that, you knew, their friendship would be history.

 

* * *

 

“I am fucking soaked!”

 

When he finally arrived, drenched and with still warm potatoes protected under his cloak, Jean found you and Marco lying in each other’s arms, quietly talking and smiling at each other like a pair of newlyweds.

 

“Did I miss something?” Jean’s eyes swung from face to face suspiciously as he took off the wet clothes and kicked off the muddy boots. There was a thinly-veiled tinge of jealousy in his tone. “I see you two were already at it.”

 

You shrugged, reaching for a potato, “You weren’t showing up so we got bored.” You turned to Marco and winked, causing him to snicker.

 

“That idiot instructor held me up. Will that guy ever give us a break!?” Jean scowled and sat down next to you, bearing without a comment you drying his hair with your shirt.

 

“Probably not.” Marco hungrily munched on the half potato you gave him. “We are lucky he is not penalizing us for real.”

 

You nodded in agreement and everyone sunk in a thoughtful silence, chewing on the improvised dinner. The rain gave no indication of stopping but at least the wind seemed to have grown tired of raging and had quieted down.

 

“So,” Jean said eventually as he wiped his hands off the dried grass, “what were you talking about?”

 

“Just remembering how we all got together.” Marco said. “Who would have thought…” he smiled warmly and proudly at you.

 

“Yeah…” Jean’s eyes narrowed, “You never did say which one of us you noticed first.”

 

In your peripheral vision you could see the smile getting wiped clean off Marco’s face. Of course Jean would assume it was him that got your attention. It seemed that he was blessed with the surplus of confidence that Marco lacked and you fought the urge to reach out for Marco to offer him support. After all, he was not a child.

 

Instead, you shrugged with a mysterious smirk, “Who knows?”

 

Jean snorted in irritation and looked through the window, scowling at the storm.

 

“Anyway,…” his eyes returned to you and slid down your breasts to shadows below your navel as he absently adjusted himself with his hand. “I know we don’t have much time, but I would really like to have you tonight. I have been going crazy back there, waiting for my chance to slip out. I am going to explode.”

 

You glanced at the relentless rain outside, thinking about the lateness of the hour and Jean, noticing, commented, “Don’t worry about it, I have brought extra cloaks so you will be dry and can go straight to bed when we get back.”

 

You could feel Marco stir uncomfortably, probably beating himself over his unpreparedness, so you this time placated him with your hand without turning to him. “Sure,” you smiled impishly to Jean, shifting to face him, “I did promise I would make it up to you.”

 

You slid your fingers up his undercut and into his unruly hair, leaning in and kissing him. He responded hungrily, shaking the drowsiness from your lips, making you follow the pace of his conquering tongue. With his eyes closed, he licked your neck, sliding upwards from your collarbone many times, then biting down gently but convincingly enough to show you his intentions.

 

His teeth nibbled on your lower lip, the lids on his eyes heavy, his hands fumbling across your curves. So unlike the usual alert, sharp and attentive Jean. You made him drop his guard and that turned you on. Your hands reached for his hips, tugging him towards you. You yearned to feel his rough hands on you, devouring you as his fingers dug into your flesh.

 

“You are already ready to go?” Jean eyed you quizzically, then glanced over at Marco and flashed him a wide grin. “Thanks for warming her up for me.”

 

Marco rolled his eyes and laid back as Jean knelt and spread his knees wide, then pulled your loins closer to him, your legs resting on his shoulders. With his hands on your hips he adjusted your positions and slid in, throbbing and hot, a relief sweeping across his face.

 

“Mmmm this first feel…” he mumbled and started working his hips in and out. He didn’t waste time when he saw you were already more than ready and quickened the pace. You knew he liked it that way so you let your body reverberate with his muscle power, sway and rock like a ship on a windy day. Your nails dug themselves into knotted muscles of his thigh, making him gasp with pleasure.

 

Jean's mallet parted your soft flesh, relentlessly penetrating and withdrawing, sending a rush of blood to your cheeks and a new wave of pleasure with each thrust, making your breasts jiggle up and down. You could tell he was turned on by your dancing nipples, as his gaze lingered on their sways and his cheeks flushed brighter red. His fingers, wrapped around your calves, squeezed tighter, pulling your legs closer to his chest, the brushing of his damp tresses across your toes making you giggle and squirm.

 

He stilled abruptly, panting, embracing your thighs in an upside-down hug. “I’m close.” he breathed out, not daring to move, a question in his eyes. You could feel his pulsating erection inside, against your tender flesh, ready to burst.

 

You smiled at his sweat covered face from below, gyrating your hips playfully. “It’s alright, go ahead, I am already done.”

 

From under his wet bangs Jean exchanged a glance with Marco and smirked again, his grip on your calves tightening. “Somebody’s really been busy.” he remarked and started thrusting his hips towards you again, hard, sliding effortlessly into your warm heaven, climbing to his peak.

 

Marco’s fingers found yours amid fragrant hay leaves and interlocked with them as Jean was nearing his climax. His ass pounded forwards like a hammer pounding on a nail, relentless even as his body started to give in to the surge of pleasure, the muscles going weak with orgasm that paralyzed them.

 

“Oh, fuck, I am already gaaaahhhhh…!”

 

Jean gasped and jerked above you with his mouth open and eyes closed, then slumped down letting your legs fall to his sides. He licked his lips, wiped the sweat off his face and ran fingers through his hair before opening his eyes again.

 

“I needed that.” he smiled at you, the edge from his eyes and voice gone. He slowly rubbed his palms across your moist belly, still inside you. “This makes it worth putting up with all the crap the instructor is throwing at me.”

 

“Agreed.” Marco said from the other side, his fingers still solidly entwined with yours. The two boys snickered knowingly in unison as Jean’s arms placed you alongside Marco and embraced you tightly.

 

“Let’s take a breather.” Jean said pressing his lips to your forehead and Marco concurred by sliding his body in snuggly to yours, untangling your hair and patiently picking pieces of dried grass out. The raindrops outside whispered in their lulling rhythm, the night’s cloak hiding you from unwanted eyes.

 

You hoped you would always stay like this; in between to bind, not separate them.

 

 

You hoped having them on your sides would always make you feel safe, not torn.

 

 

 

You hoped you would never have to choose.

 

 

 

Fire or water?


End file.
